


tell daddy your troubles

by tsunderestorm



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 22:25:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11427459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsunderestorm/pseuds/tsunderestorm
Summary: When Prompto needs a little bit of a pick-me-up, he goes to see his Daddy.





	tell daddy your troubles

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the kink meme, posted in its first form [here](http://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/3892.html?thread=4620084).
> 
> You know in the game, right after the first tomb and Cor praises Prom and I swear he just about nuts when he says "Did I just get praised by the Immortal?" Yeah. That's some gooood shit right there.

Prompto has had worse days than this one, sure, there’s always worse. But it sure hasn’t been good. It’s not Noct’s fault he’s busy, between Gladio’s brutal training sessions and Ignis’s royal protocol brush-ups, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling any less left out. He might be training for his Crownsguard, but he’s not there – not yet. It’s not his dad’s fault, either, that Prompto is annoying or something, but it seems like everyone he’s tried to talk to today just hasn’t _wanted_ him. It’s nothing new, but it still stings like hell. Cor’s is the only place left where he has a chance to feel wanted, the only place he can crawl into and hide like he rarely allows himself to. Cor’s home, he knows; today is Sunday so all he did was run drills with the Glaive until late afternoon so it’s where Prompto drifts. Like a man possessed, like his feet are making a path he isn’t even fully aware of in his heart or his head.

What he’s really hoping for, to tell the truth, is for Cor to be in one of his special moods; the more playful ones, when his serious demeanor fades away and there’s nothing but the playful, stubborn spitfire Cor’s told him he used to be and they can forget their troubles under each other’s hands. What he’ll settle for, though, is just spending time with him – even if Cor doesn’t want to play like that, it’s nice to be around him and even if he won’t talk about it, it makes his bad mood fade away.

Cor knows something is wrong with Prompto the minute he walks in, all hung head and sad eyes. “You wanna talk about it?” he tries, but Prompto only shrugs. A few minutes later, Prompto drops the carton of fries he’s been picking at since he got there onto the table with a clatter and Cor, persistent or stubborn or both, takes another crack at it.

“What’s bothering you?”

“Just not feeling too great today, I guess, maybe?” Prompto finally admits with a shrug, brushing it off the way he always tries to do and by the Six, Cor’s not going to stand for it. He can’t make the doubt stop creeping in on days Prompto isn’t spending with one of his friends, but he can damn well show him how much he means. He knows what Prompto needs, and what Prompto needs is his Daddy.

“Why don't you come over here and tell Daddy all about it?” Cor asks quietly, levelly, patting his thigh as he sits down on the low couch in his living room. It’s phrased like a question but in tone it’s an order and he knows Prompto knows what it means by now: the timbre of his voice, the way he spreads his legs, slouches down a bit in his seat to give him plenty of lap to sit on.

It works, because Prompto’s entire demeanor changes, damn near sparkling as he bounces from one foot to the other. “Yeah?” he asks, kicking off his shoes and crossing the room quickly. Cor shrugs off his jacket and slings it over the back of the couch, resting in just the shirt beneath it and his pants. He hasn’t changed since he got home, still in his Crownsguard-issued fatigues and for a moment there is the faintest twinge of guilt, like always. He offered to train Prompto to ready him to serve as the third and final member of the Prince’s Crownsguard and instead, they’d ended up with…whatever it is they have. Some days it’s difficult to put a name to. Still, he knows what he needs.

“Don't you want to come see Daddy? Let him make you all better?”

Prompto scurries over in a matter of seconds, nearly falling over his own feet. Gods, he's gotten so good, excelling so well in training but he's like a newborn deer when he's excited, all long legs and too much energy. He fits into his lap like he was made to be there, skinny thighs cradling one of Cor’s muscular ones as his arms sling around Cor’s shoulders, hands clasping at the nape of his neck. He can feel them there, a little oily from the fries and clammy from anticipation but no less welcome, returns the sweet gesture with a hand of his own in Prompto’s hair when he rests his head on his chest. He’s pouting, he can tell – he can feel the bow of his lips and the furrow of his brow against his chest, his hair is soft beneath his fingertips as he snuggles in and all Cor wants to do is pamper him.

It’s not a way he usually feels towards – well, anyone. He’s not here to coddle and there’s nothing worse in his eyes than a weak, spoiled person but Prompto isn’t a damn thing like that – gods, he’s never seen someone work so hard, be so eager to please. Outside of his home, Cor is no-nonsense, all business - he performs his duties, he serves his king, he sets a little time aside to train Prompto as the Crownsguard member he hopes to be. But inside his home, cradled by four walls that don't judge and can't talk, he's more than a mentor or just someone to emulate for him, something more visceral. Softly, he prods at the subject again. “Are you gonna tell me what’s bothering you?”

Prompto sighs, a hand sliding down Cor’s shoulder and chest to flit over the low neckline of his shirt before he pulls out his phone, opening the folder with the pictures he uploads from his camera. “Just kinda feel like...wasted space, y’know? But it's no big deal. It'll pass.”

He's scrolling through his pictures. Cor can see a few of Noctis, some selfies, a blurry picture of what appears to be his adoptive father looking annoyed - ah, so that's the problem. No one’s paid any sort of attention to poor Prompto today, let alone the proper sort and his pretty baby thrives off attention and praise.

“Daddy loves you.” Cor knows it's simple, but it works. Prompto puts his camera away and throws his arms back around Cor's neck, fingers worrying at the collar of his shirt as he leans in, all big, hopeful eyes.

“Yeah? Gods, that sounds nice. Say it again?” He's half moaning as he says it, so easy to impress. _This_ is what Cor does it for. This is the reward, watching Prompto relax under his hands, strip his jacket and shirt off and toss them somewhere behind him. The floor, probably.

“Daddy loves you,” Cor says again, hands coming to rest on Prompto’s skinny hips, fingers rubbing circles over the bones. His skin is pale and perfect under his fingertips, and unmarked – he’ll have to fix that, he knows. Prompto won’t mind marks as long as they’re from Daddy, will wear them proudly. “You’re beautiful.”

Prompto blushes easy, flushing from his freckled cheeks to his rosy nipples, warm under Cor's rough hands. He pinches a nipple between his fingertips, rolls it until its stiff and sensitive, until Prompto is biting his lip to stifle a low whine before he moves to give the other the same treatment.

Prompto’s neck is sensitive under Cor’s lips, rubbed raw by his beard when he nuzzles into it and Prompto whimpers, “ _Daddy_ ,” the way Cor likes, crumples into his touch, starved for it even though it’s only been just over a week since they played like this. Cor wouldn’t call himself the most affectionate person, but it’s just so easy with Prompto; easy to praise him until the stars light up his eyes and the smile splits across his face, easy to whisper _baby_ into his ear while he’s writhing on his lap, rocking his knee forward against Cor’s crotch, pushing coarse fabric against his slowly swelling cock. The pressure’s nice – Prompto’s slight weight is a welcome one, a familiar one.

Prompto bounces back easily when his mood plummets like this, Cor’s noticed. He can tell by the way he focuses his clumsy hands to popping the button and undoing the zipper on his pants, freeing one of the layers confining his now-aching cock. Over-eager, endearing, and so he rewards him again just like a good daddy should.

“That’s right, baby. You’ve learned so well. Nice and easy with Daddy’s cock, that’s a good boy.”

Prompto looks up at him, the perfect blend of shy and coquettish, lashes fluttering on his freckle-dappled cheeks as he slips his hand into Cor’s boxers, curls a sweaty palm around his cock and squeezes just _right_ at the base to make his hips snap.

“I know how to handle my Daddy,” he teases, the kind of confident Cor likes – not cocky, too headstrong for his own good. It’s cute as shit, the way he bites his lip in concentration, tongue flicking out like a cat with cream, like he can already taste the salt tang of the precum coating his fingers when he swipes across the head.

Cor takes Prompto’s chin between his fingers and guides his gaze up to meet his, drawn in by the cool blue-violet of his eyes. “You want that, baby? You want Daddy’s big dick? Tell me you want it, baby. I need to hear it.”

Prompto nods dutifully, ever his good boy. He wants it, Cor knows he does. He can tell from the way Prompto’s dick is hard against his thigh, the way he ruts down with stuttering motions of his hips, the way he’s nowhere near gentle with himself as he as he tugs his own pants down, tripping over himself when he jumps off Cor’s lap to yank them off. “Yeah Daddy, oh fuck, yeah, I want it – “

“You know you’re my good boy, right?” he grunts as Prompto squirms his way back into his lap, straddling his thigh, eager cock bouncing against his belly. He gets hard so easily, feels everything so strong and can’t control his reactions at all and _gods_ , that’s part of the fun of this whole thing. He’s such a good boy it makes Cor’s head spin in circles, makes his vision swim and makes the heat pool low in his belly when Prompto jerks him off.

“Yeah, yeah,” Prompto nods, reaching for the lube Cor has taken to keeping in the end table drawer, fidgeting to pop the cap as he averts his eyes from his gaze. Cor knows he’s intense, knows that people have withered under it in all kinds of situations and Prompto’s told him it makes him hot all over, makes his skin prickle when he stares at him like that. But this is something different, this is Prompto not wanting to hear it, wanting to avoid the praise and he can’t stand for that, can’t stand his boy not listening to his daddy when he needs him to not just hear it but _understand._

“Hey – “ Cor stops, suddenly serious for a second, all it takes. Not breaking their characters, not stopping the fun, no, but still enough to be heard. “Hey, you know how special you are?”

Prompto shrugs again, his specialty. “I mean, yeah…sure!” he says as rubs the edge of the bottle of lube, trying to clean it and only making it messier. The hand around Cor’s cock loosens, then tightens again, fingers running up the vein on the underside of it as Cor fights to keep his voice level. “Of course I do.”

“Prompto. Prompto, look at me,” Cor starts, and then softer: “Look at Daddy.”

 _That_ gets his attention. “You’re so special, baby. You’re my good boy. You’re so pretty, Daddy’s so proud of you.” All of the praise seems like too much, too over the top for a man who’s never truly satisfied with anyone, who always pushes them for more but Prompto is perfect like he is, perfect and he means every single word. “Gonna make you feel good, baby.”

Prompto plucks Cor’s fingers off his hip where they’re digging fingerprint-shaped bruises into the tender skin, lacing them with his own and smiling before he drags them to his ass, squeezing his cheek to spread it, revealing his hole to the questing press of Cor’s warm fingertips. He reaches behind him, surprisingly agile as he drips lube onto Cor’s middle finger as it circles his hole, breath hitching as he squeaks “I got it. I promise, okay? Go on, Daddy.”

\--

Prompto didn’t realize how bad he needed this, how bad he needs Cor. His boyfriend, his lover, his _daddy_ , how bad he needed to be pampered and praised by a man who is known for never pampering anyone. Not Gladio, who he’s trained since like, childhood and who might as well be his own flesh and blood, not Noct who is the prince and should probably be pampered on account of being just about the best thing ever. _Prompto_ , just some no-name brat with no standing. He didn’t know he needed it until he had it but _gods_ does he need it now.

Everything melts away under Cor’s hands. The world is an unwelcome blur, a blemish on the shine that is their little haven they’ve built of each other’s bodies in Cor’s apartment. It keeps moving around them, spinning the way his head does when Cor tugs him down into a kiss that’s tender and demanding all at once, moving on without them while Prompto sinks down onto the already thick press of two of Cor’s fingers, then three. Or maybe it’s them that move too fast for the rest of the world to catch up - he’s not sure. All he knows is that Cor is feeding him a steady stream of praise – of _good boy_ , of _just like that, baby_ , of _so sweet for daddy_ – and that he wants to do whatever he can to keep that up, to keep Cor’s dick jumping in his palm when he rocks forward against him, feels his balls hot and heavy on his knee, just the right amount of pressure to make it good. He knows what his daddy likes.

Sinking down onto him is always too much; he always moves too fast, gets too impatient – not even the slippery coat of lube dripping down the thick column of Cor’s cock is enough to take away the burn when he’s spread so wide, no matter how wide Daddy’s fucked him open on his fingers it’s still so much more when it’s his dick, thick and hard and searing hot when he takes him in. It’s good, though – it’s so good with Cor’s hands on his hips urging him on,

“Someday Daddy’s gonna teach you patience,” Cor promises, even though Prompto can see the veins in his arms stand out, see the tension coiled in his shoulders (and _feel_ it in his hips) from fighting back the urge to blow his load inside him right away. “Trying to make you feel better, not hurt you.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not hurt,” Prompto gasps as he raises up only to sink down again, bites his lip at the feel of being spread open again before he’s really adjusted. He likes the idea of Cor teaching him patience, imagines how _that_ particular encounter would go and he files it away in his head under Things I Really Want Cor To Do To Me _._ “Want it like this. Wanna feel you for days, Daddy, wanna – “

He’s cut off when Cor kisses him, open-mouthed and hungry, teeth clacking against Prompto’s but it’s not rough, somehow. It’s desperate, yeah, that much is true and it’s hot as hell but Cor is never rough with him, at least no more than he wants him to be. Gods, his daddy is so good to him –

“Ooh, that’s so good, fuck, man, _shit_ – “ if he were in any conscious state of mind he might be a little embarrassed at the fact that he’s not _cute_ anymore so much as…uh, kind of slutty but he has Cor’s dick so deep in him he swears he’ll never be the same. He’ll never be empty again, he’ll carry the memory of his daddy with him wherever he goes.

Every time _daddy_ tumbles from his lips Prompto swears he can feel Cor’s dick throb inside of him, press insistent and hot against him from the inside, pressed right up against his slick inner walls so deep he’s quickly forgetting what it feels like to be empty and every time Cor calls him _baby_ , drags it out in that low, ragged voice of his Prompto feels his balls draw up tight, feels it low in his belly around where Cor’s big dick seems like it’s gonna bust out of him. Fights it back every time, bites his lip and focuses hard on riding.

“You’re so good, Prompto –“ Cor groans when Prompto slides down with something that’s way more whimper than moan, trying to collect himself before he rolls his hips again. He’s called him by name already – he usually does – but something about his real name it in that moment, not _baby_ or anything like that really gets him and he shudders when he tries to move again that time, hips jerking in shaky motions he can’t even control. “Gods, I’m gonna –“

“Yeah? Yeah Daddy?” Prompto baits as he rocks forward, changes the angle of Cor’s dick inside him and jabs again at the bundle of nerves inside and he can’t take it anymore, can’t hold it back anymore and he’s striping Cor’s toned, hairy belly with cum as his daddy guides the roll of his hips through it, lets him ride it out.

Cor comes with a heaving shudder the minute Prompto squeezes tight around him, spills deep inside of his boy where no one else can ever hope to reach. _His boy_ , he thinks, so cute even as his fingers are scrambling at the collar of the shirt he never fully took off, so good and special even if he doesn’t see it. With enough times like this, Cor will make him see it.


End file.
